


Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms

by Offendedfish



Series: DC Reader Inserts by an Offended Fish [19]
Category: Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Idiots, Idiots in Love, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, The Great British Bake Off References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offendedfish/pseuds/Offendedfish
Summary: Combining a Kryptonian, a Bat, and you with a fascination with the Great British Bake Off is a really bad idea. You’ve had worse.
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent/Reader, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Tim Drake/Reader
Series: DC Reader Inserts by an Offended Fish [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885726
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms

**Author's Note:**

> I needed this fic to exist. I need more poly fics. Funny story, I was listening to Kitchen Nightmares while writing this. Thanks to Elle for the mood board! Also, you can blame Symeona for this.

Kon yawns, scratching at his broad chest and running his hand through his tangle of curly black hair. He blinks one eye open successfully to the dim light flooding into the end of the hall likely coming in from the living room. The lights dance, glowing softly with faded color against the dark glossy wood of the floor. 

Kon’s first sleep-addled thought is, Oh, Aliens. Ok, cool.

It takes his brain a full minute to realize how much that doesn’t make sense. The apartment is dead silent, lacking the telltale whirring most spaceships give off when they’re hovering, the sounds of nervous fingers tapping against a stack of papers echoing in the mostly empty space. Kon strained his ears trying to focus on the other sounds flitting in the room. He can hear the steady calming beat of your heart come off rhythm, jumping a fraction of a beat faster. It wasn’t fast enough to say you were in danger. It was just fast enough to tell that you were extremely engaged in whatever was occupying your attention. Kon thinks it over. The last time he checked looking over papers- lab reports, especially- was the bane of your existence. He listens again. This time making out the voices coming from the TV. Kon wasn’t awake enough to understand what they were saying. 

5:47 AM

Kon groans trying his hardest not to laugh while he stares at his phone. You are an actual psychopath. Who wakes up at 5 AM? Villains that’s who. Did you even sleep? Why do you and Tim hate sleep so much? 

Stepping into the living room as quietly as he can, he finds you huddled against the right side of the couch far away from the TV, your thick wool comforter draped over your head and shoulders making a fluffy tent. Strands of your messy bed head sticking out and swaying as you rock on your heels. Your stack of papers long since abandoned on the arm rest beside you. Kon can’t help but smile at how adorable you looked, still sleep rumpled and red-nosed from the cold. 

Eyes glued to the TV, you pull up your knees to your chest revealing your fuzzy Red Robin socks. Kon frowns then makes a mental note to get you some Superboy socks later. You curl deeper into your comforter, easing and pressing into the armrest. All of your apprehension fading and relaxing as the rest of the world melted away. Kon smiles devilishly at your inattention. He tiptoes towards you which was entirely unnecessary because it didn’t matter that Kon was about as stealthy as a disco ball not when all of your attention was directed at the TV. 

Kon launches himself at you too quickly for you to even react or comment or throw a pillow at him. You shriek as he lands on you, his muscular body squishing you into the couch. You wince hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. You’re not too worried about Tim waking up considering how tired he was. 

“Morning, gorgeous.” Kon greets, winking and wrapping his arms around your waist. The audacity. You groan attempting to glare at him. He simply gives you a dopey smile. You have to blow out a raspberry to keep yourself from smiling back. You strain your lips into a flatline. The crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes betray you though. The corner of Kon’s mouth twitches, those big baby blues shining even in the dim light. He knows he’s won you over. 

You’re too petty and sleep-deprived to give in. You roll your eyes at him, lips still wobbling and tingling from the effort of maintaining your unimpressed frown. Still, without resistance, you shift the comforter and refold yourself to accommodate his intrusive form. Large arms wrap around your waist tighter as he lays his head in your stomach. How he finds this position comfortable for his neck is beyond you but you do appreciate the warmth. Kon’s smile widens as he looks up at you. It looks positively smug. Your nose scrunches up bracing for whatever Kon is about to say. 

“Aw, baaabe, it looks good on you~” You look down at the oversized Superboy hoodie you’re wearing which was two times bigger than it needed to be as was standard of your hoodies. You mutter a curse. Kon had been pestering you to wear it. It’s not that you didn’t want to. It’s just that you had a soft spot for the Impulse hoodie Bart got you a few years ago which meant it was your got-to-hoodie despite the fact that it was fraying. It was in the wash so you decided to give this one a try and honestly, it is really fucking comfy and more importantly warm. You huff at him, feeling your cheeks color. You glare at him, his dopey smile still plastered on his face. You make the executive decision to ignore him. 

This decision does not last long. 

About two minutes into your silent treatment, Kon whines and pouts weaponizing those baby blues. “Aw come on, gorgeous, you can’t stay mad at me forever.” He nuzzles into your stomach tickling your drawing a smile out of you. He grins at you and finally, you let yourself smile back fully. “Asshole.” You grumble. He knows you can’t resist him when he’s being cute and calling you ‘gorgeous’. That is just plain cheating. Still, you relent. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders, running your hand gently through his dark hair allowing your fingers to tangle in his curls. The arms around you tighten a little pulling you closer to him. 

Kon doesn’t need a reminder of how absolutely adorable you are but it is very much appreciated. Kon loves looking at you as the soft glowing colors flash across your face highlighting your features and softening them. In the dim light of the room and under the blankets, you press closer to him all the sharp edges of Gotham's alleys stripped away leaving you sleepy-eyed and very huggable. Between you and Tim, you were the one people pointed to when they thought Gothamite but that was the fun of it. He and Tim, they were the only ones who got to see this softer you. The you that you let get enraptured by hobbies and dumb little things. Kon held you close, relishing your presence. This was the version of you they got to keep for themselves and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

\-------

Tim shifts feeling either side of him vacant. Tim rolls over, arms searching for either you or Kon as his mind catches up. The warm sunlight brushes over his skin as he rolls over once again, stirring him from his sleep. Tim blinks, eyes adjusting to the morning light. 

9: 10 AM

He groans, shifting up and burying his head under the pillows hoping to once again fall asleep. 

“Oh no no no no!”

“Shush! Don’t jinx it!”

Tim’s eye cracks open. He lifts his head a bit tilting it to find the bedroom door open, your voices filtering in like dust in a sunbeam, pleasant but ultimately not helpful. 

“I can’t jinx a pre-recorded show, genius!” 

Tim sighs. Sleep was, inevitably, lost at this point. Tim debates on whether to keep himself under the covers and finally be able to hog the thick blankets. Or he could, possibly, investigate the commotion happening in your shared living room and risk freezing. Sadly, he chose the latter. 

Blearily, Tim searches the room for a shirt only to find one of Kon’s discarded on the floor. Well, it’s not the first time he’s borrowed one of Kon’s shirts. 

Tim wasn’t surprised to find you out of bed. After all, the idea of sitting still ate you alive. You were always, always the happiest when you were in motion when your hands were working to make something like some part of you was constantly vying for the chance to be something instead of just being. Tim completely understood the feeling. 

Kon had once accused you of being a workaholic when in truth at the moment you had been avoiding work by doing one of your side projects. He had also accused both of you of being sleep allergic which is probably true but at least, Tim’s drink (read: poison) of choice was tea and not a cocktail of monster energy drinks and misery. 

It was odd to find Kon out of bed though. Kon could laze around in bed for days if you let him, so his being up was worth investigating if only to make sure the apartment didn’t burn down. 

“Look what you did!”

“It’s prerecorded, jackass!”

“You cursed him and gave him a soggy bottom”

Tim can tell just how long you’ve been glued to the T.V. based on the way your vowels slant to mimic that of the hosts. Tim’s slightly chapped lips curl as he shakes his head at the way you and Kon cock your heads towards the T.V., attention completely captured by what seems to be a cooking show. You held your breaths, waiting for the judge to say something. Kon shifts up, leaning his head against your shoulder. Your limbs were tangled loosely against each other. It was a rare, lazy sort of affection that never failed to make Tim smile. 

“Ok, no. That’s just mean.” You huff into Kon’s hair, looking absolutely petulant and cute. Tim works to stop an ‘aaaaawww’ rising from the back of his throat lest you throw a pillow at his head. 

“Babe, it’s Paul Hollywood. What were you expecting?”

“Human decency. She worked hard on that.” You whine, genuinely looking upset. 

Seeing, your reaction Kon relents burrowing himself closer to you for comfort. “True.”

Tim turned his attention to the T.V.. What he found made his brow shoot up. 

“Great British Bake Off?” Tim asks, sliding into your left side and placing his head on your shoulder. There is a reason you guys bought an L-shaped couch. Said reason was named Conner Kent who liked laying on top of people. Those people being either of you. Tim snuggles into your side, earning him a kiss on his nose. His nose scrunches feeling itchy. He lets out a small sneeze into the back of his hand. You blanch at him while Kon snorts, throwing him a box of tissues from the coffee table. 

“Mornin’, Space Case.” You mumble giving him another kiss, this time on the corner of his lip. Tim blushes, his face brighter than the sunlight outside your window. Tim is, sadly, incurably adorable. 

Kon smiles at both of you smugly for what neither of you has any clue. Not until you see what Tim is wearing and not until Tim sees what you’re wearing. You groan and Tim blows out a breath through his nose while Kon presses his positively glowing smile into your hoodie. He’s not going to shut up about this anytime soon or ever. 

“Do you two even know anything about baking?” Tim asks, crossing his arms over his chest and smoothly changing the subject. 

You and Kon share a look. 

“Nope”

“Yes”

“Microwaves and watching this show doesn’t count.”

“Ooook, fine. I don’t. Buuuuuut considering none of us can-”

“I can cook.” Tim defends, clipped. You roll your eyes dramatically. Kon smirks, also doubtful. You flicker your eyes to Kon to meet his and with the brief contact, you know you’re on the same page. 

“Microwaves don’t count, Tim.” Kon shoots back, pulling himself off you so he can show Tim the full extent of his Cheshire smile. You can see Tim drawing his hackles up, so both of you, being the little shits you are, continue to goad him. 

“You can cook in theory,” You drawl, letting the challenge embed itself into the syllables. Tim cuts you a look. You simply look at him innocently. Tim _knows_ that you’re baiting him. He definitely knows this and yet…

“Fine!”

“Fine?” 

“Fine. We’ll even make something from the show!”

“Even chocolate eclairs?” Kon says a little too eagerly. You were just gonna say meringues but chocolate eclairs sound fantastic.

Tim throws up his arms and exasperates. “Sure! Why not?”

You and Kon share a dopey smile, smug and preening as you look at him. Tim groans, placing his head in his hands. He knew this would happen. He knew. You and Kon high five and make a little “yeah!” noise in celebration.

This will not end well. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You twitch your lips staring down at Tim’s phone, deleting and retyping the message for the third time. You weren’t _sure_ how to explain this without having Jason falling to the floor laughing. Your eyes stung from the smoke so you decided to just send him your third try. 

Tim: Hey Jason, theoretically, say your oven caught on fire like via laser beam or something, do you just pour water on it?

You wait a few minutes, watching the three dots indicating he was typing only for him to stop typing without replying. You make a small noise, which was thankfully lost to the bickering behind you when Jason’s phone number flashed on the screen. You’re always nervous about talking to Tim’s family. Tim had once assured you that you were overthinking it but still. To be fair, it was easier than dealing with Kon’s. Actually, no. No, it wasn’t. Both were intimidating but in very different ways. You do have to say that Jason, scary as he was, was easier to approach than say Bruce. 

“Baby bird,” Jason says, the edge of a wheeze gripping his throat. Clearly, having just recovered from laughing his guts out. He breathes, hand slamming against what you suspect was either a kitchen countertop or a workbench or both knowing Jason. “Ok, ok, I’m good-” He clears his throat. “Kay, tell me what happened.”

You flick your eyes toward the fire and your boys who were more or less still bickering, their voices tangling with the crackling of the flames. You’re mildly surprised that neither of them is on fire but you’re not holding your breath. They’ll probably be somehow combust in the next five minutes. You love them but they’re disasters.

“We were trying to bake- shut up-” Jason does not snort any quieter. “And well, Tim thought-”

“It was Kon’s idea!”

“You let me!” Kon defends sounding utterly betrayed. 

You groan and Jason snickers. “What do we do?”

“Have you tried apologizing to it?”

“Jason, I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Now, apologize.” You sigh exasperatedly. Waynes are assholes. 

Tim raises a brow at you and you give him a shrug not really knowing what to tell him. “Apparently, we need to apologize to the oven.” You deadpan, immediately regretting even relaying it. How have you never decked Jason? It wasn’t fear. After all, you’ve decked Batman. Ok, in your defense lack ~~thereof~~ , that one was by accident or moreover reflexive. 

“Hey Kon”

“Both of you have to apologize too!”

“First of all, I was in the bathroom getting towels when you two chucklefucks decided to use laser vision to preheat the oven.”

You hear Jason fall out of his chair. Distantly, you hear someone calling Jason an idiot but you weren’t too familiar with the voice. You instantly thank yourself for not turning on the camera considering what state you three were in. Kon was covered in chocolate, your hair-as well as your poor phone- was caked in batter, and Tim? Tim was covered in everything but mostly flour which keeps making his nose twitch like a rabbit. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kon’s already taken a few pictures. You yourself have taken a few. 

“Ok but seriously what do we do?”

You hear some rustling and a chair squeaking back into place. 

“No…”

“First off, did you close the oven?” Your eyes flicker to them. Placing Tim’s phone between your shoulder and ear, you mime the advice. Tim frowns skeptical but Kon kicks the oven closed anyway. 

  
  


“Ok, it’s closed now. Should we put water in it?”

“NO. Have you never put out a kitchen fire before? How do you three eat?”

“We live in the middle of downtown, what do you think?”

Jason sighs disbelieving and finally sounding appropriately exasperated. You could see him running his hand over his face. “Who let you three live together?” This made your lips twitch up. “I dunno. Kon and I just started mooching on Tim and then suddenly we each got a key to the apartment.” It was an oversimplification of events but there was a fire and you had to get at least one joke in. 

“Do your neighbors have- Wait, don’t you have a Kryptonian clone with freeze breath?”

You blink and slap your palm against your forehead. The other two seemed to get what you had just remembered and act appropriately with Tim looking defeated and Kon finding the situation hilarious. 

“Thanks, Jay.” You mutter wanting the Earth to swallow you whole. Esme, your chubby rat, squeaked nuzzling against you as she wormed her way out of your hoodie. She may or may not have been the primary reason for the size of your hoodies. She smiles at the phone, wide-eyed and happy as if she could see Jason. You hear a soft laugh coming from Jason’s end. 

“Is that Esme?” Your brow ticks up not quite sure how to answer. “Uh yeah.” You answer dumbly, giving Esme little scritches that she leaned into happily making all her little happy noises. 

“Give her a cuddle for me.” You give Esme a kiss on her nose and she snuggles in reciprocation. Kon pouts face still full of chocolate, “Where’s mine?”

“You’ll get one once our apartment isn’t about to burn down.” 

  
  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fresh out of the shower, you plop down next to Tim letting your wet hair flop onto his face and his fuzzy Wonder Girl sweatshirt. Tim huffs at you taking another bite out of the hot fresh-ly ordered stuffed crust pizza. The cheese was still gooey and molten. It made your stomach rumble like nobody’s business. You whine childishly trying to get Tim to hand you one. He looks at you, mouthful of pizza, and grabs one only to hand it to Kon. You gasp at him. You stretch your legs over their laps in protest only to retract them immediately after Kon pokes at your feet a couple of times tickling you. 

You hide behind Tim, glaring at Kon and sticking your tongue out. Tim, the traitor, moves out of the way letting Kon’s long arms capture you. You shriek almost sounding like Esme as he pulls you in sitting you in his lap. You sigh in defeat as Kon places his chin on your head. You don’t even want to see the triumphant smirks on both their faces. 

You grab a slice and through the mouthful of cheese and grease, you murmur “We really need to learn how to cook.” Tim hums in agreement, leaning against Kon, aka the cuddliest heater in the world. You lean back into Kon as another signature bake is brought up to the judges. You all watch with bated breaths as you wait for the results. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You marvel at the fresh ingredients laid before you and the posh man standing in your kitchen rolling up his sleeves. 

“Hey, Duckie, are we in trouble?” Kon whispers from behind you. He’s got your back, he said. 

“Kind of?” Tim bleats, his voice a little high. 

You snort raising an eyebrow at him hiding your smile behind your hand. “Timmy, what does kind of mean?” 

“I can hear you.” Alfred deadpans. You and Kon stiffen. You’re pretty sure even Tim straightens up, probably out of habit. 

“Do any of you know how to cook?” Alfred asks in the primmest sounding accent you’ve ever heard. 

“Nope, we live downtown for a reason.” You snark reflexively. Tim glares at you and hisses silently. You shrink and mutter an apology which Alfred takes graciously.

“I am assuming you don’t then. Well, it’s lucky that I have a free afternoon.”

Tim eyes him suspiciously. “What happened to B?”

“Your father can take care of himself.”

“You sure?”

  
  


You think you see Alfred smile at that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
